Physical Graffiti
by Alene Deirbre
Summary: Taito, Takari: A tragedy follows 02 leaving Taichi, Takure, and Hikari broken, but what happens when he who was thought to be lost suddenly returns bringing all hell with him? A tale of conspiracy and death and those who fight against it
1. A Father's Last Words

A/N: first off I need to clear up a few things. This is a completely new story; it has nothing to do with any of my other fics. This is a Neo-Goth fic. It will be dark and gritty. Also this fic is going to be pretty different from any of my other work. For one it's going to be writing in various pov's. Two it's actually going to have couples. Three it deals more with the real world then the Digital World.

This fic is a Taito and Takari, but there are mentions of past tense Sorato and present tense Taiora, however it does end up Taito. Also there is lots of sibling love (not incest) in this fic, so I guess you can say there is a little fluff.

As a fair warning this fic will contain mentions and/or descriptions of alcohol abuse, drug use and addiction, bio-alteration, abortion, cloning, cannibalism, sexual activities, gore, self injury and self mutilation, suicide, terrorism, vampirism, mentions of various religions including Judeo-Christianity, Wicca, Muslim, ect. Language, murder, torture, action, drama, angst, romance… do you get the idea? 

I don't really know where I'm going with this, I just know that I'm not going to hold anything back. 

I rated this story R for a reason, please remember that. The prologue is very tamed and actually very boring, however much of what I mentioned above will appear quickly in the next chapter. Please be mindful that this is only the prologue and that the chapters to follow will be longer, more in-depth, and will contain questionable material. Also when I speak of God in this chapter I don't mean any specific deity, I use the term God to describe intelligent design. And now on with the show.

Disclamier: I do not own Digimon. The title Physical Graffiti come from the Led Zeppelin album _Physical Graffiti_.

Physical Graffiti

A Father's Last Words

They say that there is nothing new under the sun, that all sins, both those that are and those that have yet to be, are nothing but mockeries of sins that were. I suppose there is more truth then deception in this, for the sins committed by our forefathers still linger upon the world today. Our past is our future, if this is the case then we are ultimately doomed. Who could honestly say that mankind's past is worth repeating? If you do believe it is then you must not truly understand our past, nor do you know what it has laid for our future. 

But this is understandable, after all, very few were there when our fate was sealed, and even now very few know of it. I am one of those few. One of the elite found worthy of carrying the burden of knowledge. Knowledge that I despise, knowledge that has dug my grave early for me, and knowledge that I must unfortunately pass to another. Here you will find my truth, you will know all through my eyes. You will learn how it began and inevitably how it will end. You will see why I have lost all hope, well perhaps not all hope; I still have one small ray of hope. But for now read as I convey to you our past so that you can better understand our future.

It began on December 1, 1939. Like all days before it, this was a time of darkness and doubt. The world's fate was shrouded by ignorance. Intolerance ruled judgment and it seemed as though progress had been abandoned. In the eyes of civilians the world was as complex as it would ever be, and no generation to come would ever have to endure the level of horror that their generation was forced to face.

Though this was the common way of thinking, a group of American scientist and engineers broke the chains of unfathomable ideas by creating the first computer, Atanasoff-Berry Computer, or ABC. From this computer the foundation of the Digital World was laid. Despite ABC's success, progression was not seen again until June 3, 1944 when the supervisor of the ABC program went to Britain to assist in the construction and programming of ENIAC (Electronic Numerical Integrator And Computer), the first patented digital computer. 

With the activation of ENIAC the foundation laid by ABC was built upon, forming the Digital World. The Digital World progressed even further as ABC's and ENIAC's programs were connected, forming the first network and creating the basic concept behind the Internet. From this network the various DigiWorld realities were formed, running parallel to the multiple earth realities making up the multiverse. As time passed more computer systems were created in ABC's and ENIAC's image, and the network grew, expanding until it covered the whole of this world. As the network grew in our world, stray databytes from the Internet merged with the Digital World allowing the world and its inhabitants to evolve. 

And so a time of doubt and ignorance gave birth to a new era, the digital era. Technology became the ultimate truth and the definite future of our world. The creators of this new era celebrated happily, none of them ever fully respecting their own creation, nor considering the damage they could cause. The Digital World was a secret even to it's own creators. None knew of it. None understood what was occurring. And ultimately they died in the ignorance they lived in.

And then there was a new day. Like all days before it this was a time of darkness and doubt. The world's fate was shrouded by ignorance. Intolerance ruled judgment and it seemed as though progress had been abandoned. In the eyes of civilians the world was as complex as it would ever be and no generation to come would ever have to endure the level of horror that their generation was forced to face. 

The old ways of thinking had died. Discovery and creation was all that mattered. Man lost all fear of God and all reverence of the natural laws which governed our fathers. When seeking ultimate truth we destroyed faith in all divinities. The philosophy of intelligent design became little more then a bedtime story. We destroyed God and began to worship our own accomplishments and ourselves. We put our faith in ourselves and are fellow man, and by doing so we lost all hope. Man is flawed and so our faith was flawed; we knew this and yet still we destroyed our hope.

Time past, God was dead, faith was false, and hope had been destroyed. It was the earliest years of the Digital Age, a time when all answers came from man. We looked to ourselves to fill the void we created. Biotechnology promised us hope. It promised us the beginning of life and perhaps even a cure for the end of life. 

I know the promise of creation and eternal life might seem absurd, perhaps even blasphemous, but one corporation promised this and more. They promised to all who converted to their faith a chance to hold sway over the New World. The old ways, though most had been abandoned, still managed to survive the Digital Age. They lingered upon the world and in the minds of a few poor ignorant souls, tainting the future with their existence. After years of failed inquisition, this esteemed and respectful corporation realized that in order to truly bring about this "new world" they would first have to reduce the old one to ashes. The ignorance of the past, and those who clung to it, had to be burnt away, so that those who were wise enough to embrace the future could rest easy, knowing that such foolishness was behind them. 

It was an extreme idea, fully exterminate the Old World. Torch building, ideals, and even people so that our past will not corrupt our future. If only the people had realized that the idea of eliminate one race or way of thinking in order to exalt another had been attempted many times in history. Perhaps if they had seen this, then maybe they would have abandoned the idea as madness and intolerance. But this was a new age and a new way of thinking, the similarities between these ideals and those of the past were never recognized, and so in 1983 our fate was slowly sealed.

The corporation, the one arrogant enough to promise life and life more abundantly, was called Tri-Stygian. It was a hybrid industry and its beginning was our end. 

On March 7, 1982 the head of a stream of American labs, which dealt with Biotechnology met with the head of Hypnos, a Japanese cooperation which deals with programming and networking, and the head of Runes industries, a British company which revolutionized the engineering of computers. 

For over a week the heads of these three companies debated and took counsel from one another in a secured location known simply as Urdar, the meeting place of the gods. They spoke with one another, learning each of their intentions for the future. Then was brought up the great secret which they all shared. The existence of Yggdrasil, the multiverse, and the ever looming presence of the Digital World. They learned what ABC and ENIAC had tried from so long to protect. Though they were merely computer systems, both ABC and ENIAC knew that if man were to learn of the multiverse then only pain would follow.

The two computer systems, with minds of logic, conspired together to keep all files regarding the Digital World encrypted. However, their efforts failed as hackers' abilities began to exceeded that of the early computer. The encrypted files regarding the Digital World and the multiverse had to pass through the same networks as all other files, because of this, these three corporations had access to every piece of data regarding the Digital World. For over a year all three corporations tried to decipher the strange code encrypted within the files, but their efforts were futile. The files were in a language unknown to man.

So it quickly became obvious to these esteemed leaders that alone they could not solve the mysteries that now shrouded them in the darkness of ignorance. And on March 16, 1982 the three corporations swore their alliance to one another by signing a blood contract and sealing the fate of our world. They had a common goal, a future without a past. Forget what occurred with our fathers and their fathers, all that mattered was our children and their children. A rather selfless philosophy, perhaps too selfless, for if we forget the past then we our doomed to repeat its mistakes. 

And so the Zoophagous (life-eating) contract was singed in blood, and the dawn of a new age, untainted by the old, was born. The secrets of the multiverse would be discovered in time, and the Digital World, a shadow of our own world, would help bring about a new and perfect world. 

The boundaries between the Digital World and the human world have been tested nearly to their limits. Soon the end will come and the sky will glow ablaze in a vengeful fire. For we mankind let darkness into the Digital World. Our generation allowed hatred and destruction to take over our shadow, and now our children, my children, suffer as they attempt to correct our mistakes.

Only one copy was made of the Zoophagous contract, the proof of Tri-Stugian's planes for its "perfect world". The copy was given to Zoe Lynnie, the head of Runes and now one of the trinity which rules over Tri-Stygian. The original copy, which holds all the proof of this worlds downfall including the trinities' signatures and DNA, was taken to a place known as Baldur's Tomb. Only with the possession of the original copy of the contract can this dark trinity and Tri-Stygian be brought down. 

Ever since I learned of this conspiracy I devoted my life to revealing it and stopping it. As a reporter, I wanted the truth to be known. It is true that at one time I worshipped the new religion, that I saw hope in it, but when I held my son in my arms I saw clearly. I realized how wrong I had been, and I fought for redemption, but it was too late. I had sold my soul to a lie and gaining it back was impossible. I aided in bringing out the total destruction of the old world, by believing in its corruption. 

I learned more, I hacked and studied and spent countless hours trying to learn all of Tri-Stygian's secrets. And the more I learned, the more grief began to consume me. It ate me away inside. I knew that I did not possess the strength to stop the inevitable, I knew that my son would be raised in a horrible world. The grief grew and slowly began to take its toll, not only on me, but also on my family. My marriage began to suffer. My wife, my one true beloved, felt the distance between us. She began to beg for me to talk to her, but how could I? What I had learned by accident was killing me inside. I could not cause her such pain. Knowledge is pain, it is a burden and I wished to spare her from this burden.

She should have left me long before she did, but just as she had made up her mind to take my son and leave, a tragedy fell upon us. She was pregnant again. I was to be a father again, and when she told me my heart broke and I wept. Already one innocent child to wander in this desolate world, and now another. It broke my heart to think that I would help bring a child into such misery, but on that day, that chilled rainy day, all regret left me. When I held my youngest son I saw hope, not only in his eyes but also in the eyes of my eldest son. 

For three years my dismal state abounded me, and I felt alive again. I forgot my quest for the truth, and left Tri-Stygian to continue with their unorthodox work. However, the grief along with guilt return on September 2, 1995. At the time my family and I live in an apartment at Hikarigaoka in Tokyo. My wife was away visiting her family in Paris, while my two sons and I remained at home. I sat at the computer, as I have so many nights before, working thoughtlessly on bills when the sounds of war streamed through my ears. I arose to my feet, concerned for my sons, but my attention was drawn back to the computer. 

Every electronic device in the house was acting strangely, and as I turned to my computer I saw it. Bifrost, known now as the Digi-Port. Streams of codes moved across the computer screen, and stray databytes radiated off of every electronic item in the house. The sounds of war echoed outside, and I could hear my sons cheering great beast on. It was then that I realized I had abandoned my quest for knowledge too soon.

The mad show ended, and my boys came rushing in ranting about a giant dinosaur and bird, which just battled outside their windows. It was so astounding, as I looked down at their innocent, youthful faces I did not see fear or confusion, only childish curiosity. Instantly I told them that it was nothing but a dream, they tried to argue, but I would not let them. I sent them to bed, knowing that eventually they would forget all that happened, just as I had forgotten for the past three years. 

I cursed myself for neglecting my calling. My life was bliss now, my wife and I were in love and I had my two precious sons, but to allow my joy to come between me and my quest would be selfish, and so I allowed it to consume me once again. This time my wife was neither patient nor understanding, and I suppose I can not blame her. While our eldest son would not so much as utter a word about the battling monsters outside his window, our youngest would speak of nothing else. It was the same senseless babble that I would use. Stuff like "you may not be able to see it but it's real", or "there's something out there; I have to know what it is".

She just couldn't take the idea that her precious little angel could be following in a mad man's footsteps, and I agreed with her. The last thing I wanted was for either of my sons to become like me, and yet I know that it is inevitable. My family broke apart, but I had no time for tears. I was getting close to the answers I sought. Hacking, investigating, and questioning was leading me ever closer to the jaws of the beast. But I will never make it into that relentless pit. 

My journey ends today, and there is simply not enough time. Which is why I am writing this. I know you will read my mad ramblings despite, the fact that I will ask you not to. You are so much like me, defiant even until your last breath. You have fought wars in strange worlds against strange creatures, I hope that in some way this will help prepare you for your journey ahead.

Odin, the all father, in order to gain the great gift of wisdom, gave one of his eyes to Mimir's well, but he did not morn his loss for now he could see further than mere sight would allow. But from this all seeing sight and great wisdom, a sorrow fell upon the king of gods, for now he could see the coming end of the gods. Now he understood things such as sin and deceit. Hatred and pain were concepts so alien to him, that once wisdom came and he was aware of them he wept. Though he did not regret obtaining this knowledge, it was still difficult to bare, as is all great truths. 

I tell you this old folklore for a reason. Within this simple envelope is a draught of Mimir's well. I small sip of the waters of wisdom. You will drink from it, and you will gain knowledge at a heavy price, one far greater then even Odin was forced to pay. For this knowledge will cost you your life.

I wish I could write words of comfort for you, but there are none. To say that your journey will be an easy one would be a lie. The moment you allow your curiosity to get the better of you, you're fate will be sealed. You will follow in my footsteps, only your journey will be one of far more suffering and loneliness. 

But, perhaps, I can offer you some comfort after all. Your brother, our hope, will not be brought into this world of turmoil. He was not raised by me, and so was not tainted by my infectious hands. He will continue to live in freedom, bringing his light to all blinded by shadows. Take what comfort that knowing his life is secure gives you, for it is all you will have.

I know as time passes you will want to hate me, and I do not blame you, nor will I ask you not to hate me. You have every right to despise me, for I have ruined your life time and time again, and now, at last, I will bring it crashing down. Hate me, and hate them, it will give you strength. 

The time is near, my son. Soon the sky will crash and burn around us. Soon the world you so loved will bring about our end. This is what you must prevent at any coast. Within your brother I saw hope and light, but within you I saw strength and redemption. You are the world's salvation, never stray from your path.

Hate me with unquenchable passion for the burden I am giving you, for the life I have set in place for you. But please always remember that I love you, you and your brother…. And I'm sorry.

~*~*~

I know it was short and probably made no sense, but as we go answers will be revealed. It's only the prologue but please still review. Let me know if you're at least a little interested. The speed in which I continue this will have to do with the response it gets since I do have other projects to work on. So if you're really interested then review. Also criticism, flames, suggests, are all welcomed and appreciated. 

The information about the Digital World's birth comes form the Brave Tamer's games. I will be using little bits of information from all Digimon sources, including all seasons, mangas, and both English and Japanese games.

The term Zoophagous comes from Bram Stoker's _Dracula_, I liked it and so I used it here.

The various terms I used to describe the Digital World will be terms used throughout the fic, and thus far they've all come from Norse mythology.

Yggdrasil: Yggdrasil was the great ash tree created by Odin in Norse folklore. The tree was called the World Tree and it supported and sustained the many levels of the Norse world, including heaven, earth, and hell. I used it to describe the foundation of the multiverse.

Bifrost: Bifrost or Asabru (rainbow) was the bridge that connected Asgard (heaven) to Midgard (earth). I used it to describe the gate between the Digital World and the real world (aka the Digi-Port).

The little folklore about Odin and Mimir was also from nose mythology, and went as I described it.

If you're having trouble understanding anything or you want a further explanation of something, or if you just have questions in general feel free to leave them in a review or e-mail them to me at SaintlinReed@cs.com


	2. Change In The House of Flies

A/N: First off you should know that I am updating fics according to demand. Since Eon Black Apocalypse received a greater demand I updated it first. I do this because I feel that if a fic receives more attention from the readers, then it deserves more attention from me. This does not mean I am going to neglect this fic. At first I was having a lot, and I do mean a lot, of trouble with this chapter, but now that I've finished it I realize that I really enjoyed the challenge. For this reason I will continue to update this fic, even if it doesn't get as good of a response as my other fics.

The second thing you should know as that originally I was going to write the fic completely in pov, but after attempting that twice I realized that I have no skill in writing in pov. So certain parts of this fic will be written in pov, however, the majority of it will be written in third person. Don't worry it's not going to be choppy or confusion. The pov part will be things like journal entries, letters, and new-paper articles. The rest of the story will be third person.

Just to let you know the prologue was from Masaharu's (Hiroaki Ishida) pov. There will be no more warnings about mature content in this fic. The warnings are on the prologue and if any of it disagrees with you then you simply should not have read further.

There are three different song lyrics in the chapter. They're there to help create mood and because I was probably listening to those CD's when I wrote the scene those songs appear in. Anyway, the song are as follow: _Not Meant For Me_, it's vocals are done by Wayne Static of _Static-X_ and the instrumentals are done by Jonathan Davis of _Korn_, the song is on the _Queen of The Damned_ sound track. The second song is _Smile Empty Soul's_, _Nowhere Kids_, and can be found on their CD _Smile Empty Soul_. The final song, _Change (In The House of Files),_ really set the mood for this chapter and is by the _Deaftones_. Of course the title of this chapter is from this song.

Thank you everyone who reviewed, you guys rock and keep me going. I'm not entirely sure if this will begin to resolve the amount of confusion the prologue caused, but I'm hoping it will at least compel people to continue reading.

This chapter is dedicated to Trayne who has been a constant inspiration for me both in her fics and art. (Also she loves gore and angst, so I'm hoping she'll enjoy this.) 

Disclaimer: I do not own Digimon, nor do I own the song listed above.

Physical Graffiti

Change In The House of Files

The music blared through the speakers, as the many prismatic lights flashed in time with the loud beat. The combined effects of the canorous music and the scintillating lights fed adrenaline to the drugged and drunken occupants of the club. The many elements of the night life had drawn them like flies to reeking decay. All of them feeding off the waste, getting high on the taste of profligacy. Sex, drugs, and alcohol were past around like candy, and the people in the club took it all greedily, holding on tightly to their own depravity while secretly coveting their neighbors. 

This was but one of many underground clubs scattered around Tokyo, but its appeal ran deeper then the temporary ecstasy experienced there. This was a place where the underworld would cast off its many disguises; a place where mechanism was no longer necessary. The many trespassers hiding behind cloaks of discretion could at last walk freely without their masquerade. To get into such a paradise takes more then just good looks or money; it takes a deep understanding of that world and how it operates. You have to know what to say and when to say it, any wrong move could easily get you cast out.

From the barely clothed dancers moving seductively upon the dance floor to the mighty men of wealth sitting in a circle of pretense, all were secretly afraid and yet none dared to leave. None dared to try and brake the cycle, none wished to stand out. The many souls merged into one under the flashing lights, each loosing their identity within one another until none of them mattered anymore.

Under normal circumstances the clamorous and fidgeting would stand out, but in such an incongruous environment the one that was seemingly so diverse from the others was the one sitting silently at the bar. He gripped the shot glass tightly in his hand as he tried to suppress his irritation. It wasn't the grotesque actions of the fools around him that was aggravating him; he was use to this sort of environment and on any other occasion he would have actually enjoyed his time there. But tonight was different. Tonight anxiety gnawed at his insides as the sound of the industrial music pounded on his eardrums.

Patiently he endured the repetitive beat of the music until he could take no more and he quickly rose his shot glass up and swallowed its contents in one gulp. The thick liquid moved down his esophagus slowly, before hitting his empty stomach with a painful blow. He shuddered, as he was certain that he'd regret this in the morning but the fit past quickly and he rose his hand up, gaining him the bartender's attention. 

The bartender noticed his young customer's gesture and smiled before leisurely walking over to where the man sat. "Another for ya?" he asked, flashing his customer a charming smile.

The silent customer lifted his head a bit and offered a small smile and a quick nod, not feeling then need to strain his voice above the loud music. 

The bartender's smile broadened while his dark eyes narrowed upon his young customer. This was the first time he was able to get a good look at the young man's face, and his eyes sparkled with satisfaction once his gaze was over.

Quickly the amber hair bartender grabbed the shot glass from in front of his customer and carried it off to the bar where he preceded to refill it.

The customer watched the bartender's back for a moment before quickly growing bored and returning his attention to the bar itself, which was littered with ash and sticky with sweat and liquor. 

The music ended and it seemed that in one quick second all the people in the club joined together to take a breath. They inhaled the smoky air around them then quickly let it out, using what little oxygen they gained to help settle their nerves and clear their heads. The rollers, smokers, and stoners began passing around their black treasures freely, all even further lost amongst the flashing lights and obscure smoke. Drugs and alcohol ran through their bloodstream, tainting them with the many poisons' effects, while helping to feed their foolishness, which was further fueled by adrenaline.

The music began again, the time to breathe was over, and the dancers began their wild movements once more. The silent customer, who seemed so content with his isolated seat, stood and turned around so that he was facing the dance floor and the rest of the three level club.

His head remained bowed so that golden and ebony locks slipped over his face, concealing his icy glare. He did not so much as flinch at the sight of the savagery before him, long has he been desensitized to its effects. Whores and murders buzzed around him and his face turned to stone.

'Like moths to the inferno. If the fuckers only knew what awaited them.'

Thoughts of retribution and judgment flashed in the young man's mind as he considered the possibilities. He did not care that many, perhaps even most, of the people there knew nothing of the secret war, which battered armies had been waging for decades. He did not care that most were innocent youths, much like he would have been, drawn to the promising light in hopes of finding purpose and salvation. They had found the wrong answers and so they were guilty.

The silent man's malicious thoughts were interrupted as his sensitive hearing detected a beat that he actually recognized. Above the racing pulses of the dancers came pouring in a new song, and he smiled with content as he distinguished the words. Finding at last motivation to interrupt his mute state, he began to softly sing along.

"You think you're smart… you're not… it's plan to see that you want me to… fall off… it's killing me… let's see… you've got the gull… come take it all… the jury is coming… coming to tear me apart… all this bitching and moaning… come on it's on…"

His smile broadened as a nearly forgotten feeling washed over him. The music calmed his nerves, smiting the fires of anger and resentment, which only a moment ago raged within him, threatening to gush out of his pours and burn all that got to close. He found peace within the music, despite the songs aggression and hopelessness. 

The bartender returned, placing his customer's drink behind him then waited. To him it seemed that the young customer hadn't noticed his return, but acknowledging and noticing are to very different things. Even though his attention was on the music the blue eyed youth still heard the bartender's heavy steps. He felt the vibration as the shot glass was placed onto the metal bar, and he could smell the amber hair bartender's scent even admits the sweat and smoke

"I'm trapped in this world… lonely and fading… heart broke and waiting… for you to come… we are stuck in this world… it's not for me… for me…"

"Wow mate, you ever consider goin' into music?" 

The sound of the bartender's voice rose above the lyrics and the young man's eyes grew dark with frustration at having his moment of peace interrupted. But he quickly pushed his agitation aside and bore a broad smile as he turned around to face the amber hair man.

"I considered it once," he began somewhat remorsefully "Long ago." He added quickly, realizing that he was letting his emotions get the better of him.

"Well you should consider it again; you're voice is fuckin awesome!" the bartender added with an enticing smile. His eyes sparkled as they ran over the young customer again. 

To the youth it seemed as though the bartender was measuring him, trying to figure out the answer to some great question, finally it seemed as though the amber hair man had gotten his answer and he smiled then walked off to attend to his other customers. 

The youth turned back around, his azure eyes scanned over the environment as he listened and focused on each person there. His anxiety was growing as he stole a look at the small white device latched to his black pants. It was 12:45. Thirty minutes. He had exactly thirty minutes before his contact was scheduled to meet him. It was a dangerous place to meet; a club catering to the wicked and their sinful desires, but then again Tokyo was a dangerous city. It was one of the three headquarters of the enemy, and unfortunately it was an unavoidable stop for him.

'It hasn't changed much. But then again not many things do.'

A sadness past through him but faded like the stars' light in the glow of the city. He couldn't dwell on the past; he had to remain focused. His contact would be there soon.

Taking a deep breath he turned around and jumped back onto the barstool he had occupied most of the night. Quickly he grabbed the filled shot glass that had been left for him by the bartender and gulped down its content, hoping to drown his sentiment in liquor. 

It wasn't until the drink had burned down his throat and hit his relatively empty stomach that he realized what had occurred. The taste that lingered on the back of his tongue, the burning that blistered his throat, and the frozen flame that spread through his stomach like a plague. A piercing cold ran through him as a shiver crept up his spin causing the music and lights to become obsolete. 

'That bustard slipped me something!' 

The revelation spun in his head as his icy glare fell unto the abhorrence responsible for his current state. The bartender stood off to the side laughing and flirting with another customer, completely oblivious to the fate he had sealed for himself.

The youth cringed as the pain increased within. It felt as though he had swallowed the sharpest of blades and that they were now trying to force their way out of his stomach. As ice and steel raged war against his chest a fire ignited in his head, causing his vision to become somewhat blurred and the music to fade from individual notes into one long buzzing sound.

'This isn't the normal date rape shit.'

The effects were far more then any normal person would have been able to handle. Whatever the condemned bartender had given him was potent and toxic. A poison without a smell or taste, the young man knew this for if the toxin was detectable and distinguishable by human senses then he would have easily noticed the change in his drink. His keen senses would have smelt the poison long before he rose the glass to his lips.

'Of all the nights to fuck up Ishida you pick this one!'

There was no way that the drug given to him was obtainable by a mere bartender. The charming server was a spy. A servant of the enemy and that fact alone meant that he deserved nothing less than death. 

The youth cursed silently at his own mistake. If he had been more alert then perhaps he would have noticed. Perhaps a pulse had quickened or a glance had lasted too long, anything that could have alerted him to be cautious. But it was too late now; he had been discovered and was at a great disadvantage. He was drugged and ignorant of the situation. Was the bartender working alone or were there more waiting, lurking in the shadows, hidden amongst the fools in the club and their bleak existence? There was also a matter of timing. His contact would arrive soon and if anyone recognized them together it would jeopardize their cause. 

He had to get out of there. He had to make certain that his contact did not arrive, and most importantly he had to protect the precious devises he carried in his pocket. Biting down hard he forced the dizziness and pain back as he slowly slipped off his barstool only to feel a sudden rush of weakness pass over him, causing him to fall forward onto the bar for support.

His movement have been greatly noticeable for less then a second had past before the bartender was standing before him.

"Easy there mate," he began not even attempting to had the triumph in his voice, "Looks like you've had too much to drink, maybe you should sit awhile, wait for the effects to wear off a bit." He suggested with a slight snicker.

The youth felt his strength leaving. He clung to the bar tightly, trying desperately to remain on his feet as he forced his mind to focus long enough to make out the bartender's mockery.

A chuckle slipped from the blonde's lips, and his shoulders shook both with tremors of pain and waves of amusement. "Oh but I can't do that." He announced darkly. 

The change in the young man's voice was so obvious that it frightened the bartender. The he stared hard at the youth leaning over the sticky bar. His blonde hair with black streaks fell over his pale face, and his outfit of all black caused his body to merge with the shifting shadows around them. 

"And why is that?" the bartender questioned in regards to the youth's previous statement. 

The change in the blonde's voice had been miraculous, perhaps even unearthly. The soft subtle tone had quicker turned heated and threatening, sounding like the echoes in a nightmare.

"Because the building won't be here in a few minutes." The youth hissed in repulsion.

"What?" The bartender pulled back from his customer in alarm. 

So quickly had the blonde changed that now he was not even certain that it was the same young man. His icy eyes, once void of emotion while reflecting all in a cold silent apathy, had quickly changed like a storm upon the ocean. Even in his weakened state wind howled and lightening flashed within his young eyes, threatening to spill the sea forth in a wave of anger.

The blonde snickered in amusement, obviously enjoying his own game and the effects it had upon the conniving bartender.

He knew for certain now that the amber hair man was his enemy. He could smell the stench of industry upon him, and he could hear the beat of a blackened heart within his chest.

'How could I have been so foolish?' the blonde thought through the haze that was spreading across his mind. 'Was I betrayed? Did my contact alert Tokyo's gods of my arrival?' he shook his head forcing the doubt back. 'No! I can't doubt the few I have learned to trust during this time. I have no one else.' He reminded himself quickly.

The bartender stared at his customer, his pulse had quicken. His reward would be great for the capture of this well-known fugitive. His bosses would praise him. There were many spies placed throughout Tokyo in the lowliest of places, all seeking terrorists like the one before him, but now that he was face to face with the renowned killer, he hesitated. No longer was the blonde merely a name and a price, but now he was real, flesh and blood before his eyes.

For a moment the toxin within the youth rose up and forced down his will, causing him to loose track of his thoughts and to forget his situation. It was not until a clicking sound entered his ears that he was returned to reality and so remembered his vulnerable state.

The bartender had resolved his feelings, the promise of a price over powering any doubts he once held. He pulled out his gun from it's place latched to the bottom side of the bar and cocked it, ready to rise it up to the youth's head with intent of pulling the trigger; after all the posters did say "dead or alive".

The blonde shook his head and the mist clouding his mind blew away. His senses forced him to focus and allowed him to know what was about to occur before it happened.

Quickly he lunged forward, startling the amber hair man so that he was able to grab the man's throat and pull him forward so roughly that the only thing stopping their bodies from meeting was the bar between them. Swiftly his other hand reached out like a serpent's bite and he grabbed the bartender's right wrist, which held the gun.

The bartender grunted and struggled as an iron grip was placed around his wrist. The blonde then forced the man's arm up and ripped the gun from his hand. 

The bartender was amazed and terrified. He had heard that this fugitive possessed strength unheard of within humans, but to fight the effects of the drug he drank and to swipe his weapon from him so easily, surely he could not be human at all.

"As I said, the building will not be here in a few minutes." The blonde hissed loudly in the bartender's ear as he uncocked and unloaded the gun with one hand, allowing the clip and the gun to fall to the unkempt concrete floor. "But don't worry," he continued darkly, as he moved his free hand around to his back and pulled something out of a sheath that was concealed by his black shirt. "You won't have to wait that long." He declared with malice as he lunged his free hand forward at the whimpering bartender, impelling the bartender's chest with the object in his hand.

The bartender's eyes widened as the object pierced his flesh, muscles, and then his heart. His body twitched and he choked and spluttered as the blonde continued to hold him up by his throat. 

The blonde's eyes grew distant as he held on to his victim. His bare fingers pushed against the amber hair man's flesh and he could feel the veins beneath the skin. Only a moment ago the veins pulsed with the bartender's racing heart, now the blonde almost shuddered as he felt the movement end and saw the man's eyes glaze over with NERCO. 

He lowered his head a little to look at the instrument he had used to commit this act. The crude device was still embedded in the corpse's chest. Silently he used the hand that had forced the instrument in to rip it out of the dead body's chest. Already the body's blood was coagulating around the wound while fresh blood splattered upon the blonde's face as he ripped his tool from flesh and muscle. 

"Word to the wise ass hole," he spat at the body, "Don't ever screw with a Digidestined."

The bartender's body dropped to the floor unnoticed by the other occupants in the club. The shadows, smoke, and the haze within the dancers' minds prevented them from seeing the murder. There were no other bartenders, and so no one to see the pale body behind the bar. 

The blonde sighed, at last his will gave out and the drug in his system made its presence known again. Blades pushed upon his insides, his blood froze with ice and a fire spread through his head.

'I have to get out of here. I'm vulnerable in this condition, and it won't take long for others to realize there is a corpse on the floor.' he thought desperately to himself. 

There was no doubt in his mind that the bartender had alerted Hypnos of his presence in Tokyo, he couldn't risk encountering agents. He couldn't risk it, and he wouldn't risk it. He'd die before he was Tri-Stygian's hands again. 

Dully he looked down at the tool in his hand, the instrument he had used to kill only a moment ago. It was not a knife, nor was it a scalpel, or any other sort of blade. It was a stake. A dull rusted metal stake, once used to nail down train tracks, now used to ruthlessly murder.

A parched tongue ran slowly over soft lips, and the blonde felt his heart quicken and his taste-buds tingle as they wiped up the crimson that had splattered upon his lips. The metallic taste was more intoxicating then the liquor had been. As if on instinct he rose his crude steak to his mouth and ran his tongue over the rusted metal. Metallic tasting fluid and rust filled his mouth, and he swallowed it quickly. 

The bartender's blood ran down his throat smoothly, easing the pain and soothing the blisters on his esophagus caused by the poison. The blood fell into his stomach and the blades rusted and turned to dust in his insides. 

Untainted human blood was like a drug to him. It acted better then any painkillers ever could, and it quickly soothed away the misery in his system.

Now that the pain from the poison had been subdued he slid off of his barstool, and began to weave through the crowd, trying to work his way to the exit. The dancers fell around him but he forced his way through, until at last he reached the exit of the club.

A small sigh of relief escaped his crimson stained lips as he pushed the back door open, ready to slip into the shadows unnoticed by all. He had to get away and commit his deed; the safety of his contact counted on it. For a moment he hesitate as thoughts of his crimes, the one he had just committed and the one he was about to commit past through his mind. 

'How do you weigh life? Is the life of my one contact worth all the lives of the corrupt within that building?' 

But the question was unanswerable and so he left it hanging, another shadow of doubt to feed the void around him. 

With his questions unanswered and his head still burning with poison he walked on, ready to past through the alleys and move so that there was a decent distance between the club and himself.

However, his escape attempt was cut short as the sound of scuffling and soft breathing caught his attention. He quickly shot his head up in the direction of the sound, an action, which he greatly paid for as pain and dizziness followed his eyes, causing his sight to go dark. His temporary blindness prevented him from seeing the blow that was coming, however, his nerves made certain that he did not miss it.

A strong fist was thrown into the back of his head, knocking him to his knees. His sight cleared, but less then a second before a boot connected with his ribs, knocking the breath out of him and causing him to fall to the alley floor. The sound of rats screeching reached his ears, and to him it felt as though the disease bearing rodents were snickering, mocking his pain.

A knee fell onto his back and strong arms pushed down on his shoulders, keeping him pinned to the cold floor. The man on top of him pushed his shoulders down hard and dug his knee into the blonde's back so that the youth could barely breath. The blonde's face was caught in a puddle of reeking water that was infested with rat droppings and gray hair.

"Hello Yamato." 

A sinister voice greeted, triumph and arrogance laced heavy in his tone.

The youth, Yamato, struggled to look up at the one who was addressing him, but his position prevented him from seeing higher than the man's knees.

The man pinning the boy grew irritated with his squirming and so shoved the youth's face into the puddle of water.

Yamato choked and gagged as the water fell into his throat. 

"Stand the little bastard up." The man who had spoken earlier barked, and quickly the strong hands, which were holding the youth down jerked him up and moved their grip to his upper arms.

The boy coughed trying to force down the nausea, which gnawed at his stomach from the lingering taste of the filthy water.

Once standing Yamato was able to look around and assess the situation. No longer did one man hold him, but now two muscular men gripped his arms holding him tightly. Behind him he caught a glimpse of a man and a woman, both clad in business suits and carrying pistols, which they now aimed at him.

In front of him were also a man and a woman. The woman stood off to the side, looking at him with a smug smile. Her hair was deep red, the color of blood ablaze with fire, and her eyes where golden with a touch of light brown around the outside. She stood tall clad in all black, her red lips smirking while her fiery hair blew around her fair skin.

"Fenris." The boy addressed the woman, respect in his tone but anger burning in his icy eyes.

"Yamato." The woman returned the address with evenly.

Lastly the boy acknowledge the man standing in front of him. It was the one who had spoken to him and was obviously the leader of the group.

The blonde did not speak to him, but instead glared coldly, hoping his icy front would hide the fear that was now ripping at his insides. But for all his efforts the youth ultimately failed, for the man saw easily through his façade and his smile broadened.

The man ran his eyes over the boy until at last they settled on the tiny drops of blood that were caked in his hair.

"I see you killed poor Nathan." The man stated, his voice deep and taunting. "He was only doing his job you know." The man smiled as he saw remorse pass through his captive, he greatly enjoyed seeing these weaknesses. "We knew you would return eventually. Surely you remember what I taught you, do not hunt down your prey, it is pointless when you can simply wait and eventually he will walk into the open. It worked for your father after all." He stated, wishing to arouse some sort of response from his silent captive.

"Fuck you!" the boy hissed as he struggled against the men holding him. The small traces of fear that had once flashed within his eyes were now replaced with hatred so strong that not even a lifetime of repentance could shy away its effects.

The man smiled, pleased with the response he received, then walked slowly up to the blonde a cruel smile on his lips. The strike was so fast that if it were not for the sound of flesh hitting flesh you would wonder if it happened at all. 

Yamato gritted his teeth as his head was thrown back from the force of the man back handing him. 

"Such language," the man began slowly, "Didn't that fool teach you any manners?" he questioned before turning around and walking away. "And now we have a puzzle on our hands. I know why your father risked exposure, but what could have possible led you to the open. What is worth your being captured and probably killed?" the man thought allowed, earning him a smile from the red headed woman. 

The man turned around sharply, a twinkle of inspiration shone in his eyes as he smiled at the youth. "Ah, yes," he expressed as realization dawned on him. "A contact. You're suppose to meet someone here." He stated with pride.

Fear rose within the blonde but he did not succumb to its effects. His face remained emotionless, and his eyes seemed sharp but uninterested. 

"Who is it that you're going to meet? One of Hypnos' people?" 

The man grew irritable when no response came from the boy. He waited but the blonde showed no sings of giving in. Anger vested in the man's heart and he growled in frustration before pulling out a sort of gun shaped device. The device was gray, with a long barrel, and a vile filled with clear liquid that ran in to the grip.

Panic grew stronger in Yamato's heart, but he cloaked it well in a shield of indifference. 

The man smiled then pulled a small switch on the side of the barrel causing a long thick needle to emerge from the barrel. 

It was the sight of the needle that caused Yamato to squirm, earning him a knee to his gut by one of the men holding him. He grunted as he fell forward and would have fallen onto the ground if it were not for the men holding him. His head hung down and his shoulders slumped while golden and black locks fell into his pain stricken and horror filled eyes. Shadows swept across his vision and the effects of the first poison that enter his body became all the more potent now that another threatened to over come it. 

The man who had pinned him early reached down and twisted his gloved fingers in the youth's hair before roughly pulling his head back. Yamato whimpered softly as his head was violently pulled and then tilted so that the needle would have easier access to his neck.

"This will only hurt a little." The man holding the needle chimed with pleasure, his stormy gray eyes scanning over the youth with profane thoughts.

Yamato's breathing became quick pants and he tightly shut his eyes as he felt the tip of the needle graze his skin. Then pressure was added and the needle was slowly pushed into the pulsing vein in his neck. The point of the needle was already in but none of the drug had been administered yet. Yamato's teeth gritted hard as the sharp pain ran through his neck. 

Silence seemed to fill the alleyway, and the blonde was almost certain that in that silence he could hear the needle slipping inside him. But before the needle was fully in and the drug forced into his system another sound entered his ears and suddenly he was aware of a new heartbeat. 

The man pushing the needle in looked up at the sound of a gun being cocked. His eyes squinted as he tried to see who was hiding in the shadows, but before he could make out the figure gunfire irrupted from the darkness. 

The woman clad in a business suit was the first to be shot down, second to her was one of the men holding the blonde. Blood gushed from both bodies as bullets ripped through their chest. They swayed for a moment upon their feet before falling limply onto the littered alley floor. 

This distraction was all that was needed, as the blonde was now free of one of the men holding him. Quickly he brought his leg up in the midst of the confusion and kicked the man with the needle hard in the chest. The force of the blow sent the man crashing into the concrete floor, but this act was not without consequences to the blonde. 

The man held on tightly to the grip of the air gun and as he was sent forward the needle in the boy's neck was ripped out. A long thin line of flesh was torn along the blonde's neck and instantly blood poured from the wound. 

The firing continued, and soon the shooter from the shadows was joined by the woman with fiery hair. She pulled out her pistol and began shooting into the darkness. It didn't take long before the man wearing the business suit joined the woman, and they both fired into the darkness hoping to shoot down the insolent fool who interrupted their mission.

Yamato paid no attention to the firing; instead his focus fell upon the man still holding him. The man tightened his grip upon him but before he could force him down Yamato brought up his elbow and slammed it into the large man's mouth. 

Teeth were knocked painfully from their gums and sent into the man's throat. He began choking, trying to force the jagged pieces out of his throat, but they tore at his insides, causing blood to fill his lungs. 

Yamato jerked his arm free then spun around and sent his foot colliding with the man's chest. The man fell to the ground, where he continued to choke and fight for air. The wind had been knocked out of him and the teeth and blood clogged his windpipe. The man fell onto his face upon the alley floor where he twitched and coughed until the last of his air was gone and he past away.

Once it was obvious that Yamato was free and mobile again, the firing from the shadows stopped and another click was heard. A small silver ball was rolled out from the darkness and the ball clicked before fumes spouted out of it. Instantly smoke filled the area causing everyone to coughing and choke.

While the small dark alley was filled with smoke Yamato took this opportunity to escape. He dashed as quietly as he could down the alley's path, praying that the one hiding in the shadows was safe and able to escape. He knew he could not risk being captured again, it was a miracle that the agents hadn't searched him the first time, but if they had they would have found very valuable treasures on him. Treasures that he had to keep safe even if it cost him his contact's life. 

The smoke cleared in the alley, revealing three standing figures. A man in a business, a woman clad in black, and a man with gray eyes and raven black hair. 

Without waiting for an order the man in the business suit ran to the small pathway between the club and a warehouse, this was where the shooter had been hiding. The man looked up and down the path, frustration falling over his face.

"There's no one here!" he shouted back to his two companions, "The little fuck must have run down the path into the main streets." He explained as he walked back to his two companions.

"It seems that our precious little Yamato has more tricks up his sleeve then we original thought." The woman expressed with a smile.

The raven hair man shot his head in his colleague's direction, giving her an angered glare. "He's just a boy, he'd be nothing if it weren't for me!" the man boomed threateningly. "I made him and I want him back!"

The woman looked at the man; offense manifested in her golden eyes but she said nothing. 

"What should we do with the bodies?" the man in the suit questioned, hoping to ease some of the tension between his two superiors.

"Leave them," the raven hair man ordered coldly, "We'll send a clean up crew to take care of them." After this command he turned and began to trek down the alley with both Fenris and the man in the business suit following some distance behind him.

They were two blocks away before the earth shook beneath them and the sky wailed. Quickly they turned around and watched as debris rained upon the alley. The club exploded. A bomb had gone off inside it and now all that was left of the building burned. Smoke lifted into the sky and the wind pushed the ash so far that it sprinkled upon the three walking through the alley.

"Well it looks like we won't need that clean up crew after all." The Fenris expressed with a smirk, earning her a death glare from the man with raven hair

Nothing else was said as the three walked away, leaving the club to burn behind them.

~*~*~

Another blast shot through windows and walls, sending smoldering fragments of the large building hurling through the air before the force died away and they fell to the ground, braking into even smaller fragments upon the street. Voices of men, women, and children could be heard screaming from their places locked amongst the flames as their homes and families burnt around them. Several people were driven mad as fire caught upon their clothing then spread unto the flesh and hair. The fire ate away its victims skin like a ravenous beast, and the madness consumed their minds just as the fire devoured their bodies, causing them to rush for the nearest window and throw themselves out in an attempt to escape their slow demise. Their bodies flopped in the air and fell to the ground like stars falling from the heavens.

Firemen and other emergency personal pushed the crowds of onlookers back, trying to contain the many parents who fought to get past them so that they could rush into the building and find their children. Children filed out of their school bus, none of them expecting to come home and find the world they had grown so accustom to, burning like a macabre bonfire for hell's amusement. Young eyes and old eyes watched, each shinning with a small glimmer of hope that their loved ones would be pulled from the collapsing building, but as time pasting many of the watching eyes lost this glimmer. The light of hope drowned in a flood of sorrow and horror which washed over the many onlookers as another explosion shook the building, sounding like lashing wipes upon a beaten body. 

The many people crowding around the scene took comfort in those next to them. Friend embraced friend, brother wept with brother, and a true display of how good and selfless the human heart could be was shown as all put aside their own needs and pain to help the those around them. None had to suffer alone, none but him. A teenage boy standing alone admits the crowd kept his eyes upon the ruins of the building. No tears fell from his eyes, no pain wretched his face, for no amount of weeping could show the pain he felt now. He felt as though a blade had run through his heart, piercing it so that it bled until it could bleed no more and at last he died inside. The high of NERCO was the only comfort he had from his bleeding heart.

It wasn't until he began to gag and choke that he realized that the wind had blown the smoke in his direction. The black clouds filled his lungs until he felt dizzy and fell to the ground clutching his chest as he fought for air. He grew desperate as he choked and panted, fighting for air, but the smoke had fully invaded his lungs and he couldn't breathe…

A young man of about nineteen shot up quickly from where he lay tangled in a mess of sweaty blankets. He gasped then shut his eyes tightly, breathing in short raspy breaths until his nerves began to settle and recognition of where he was slowly began to kick in. Soon his breaths began to even out until at last he was calm again. With a grunt he fell back down, his head hitting the armrest of the dark brown leather couch he was sleeping on a little harder then he would have liked. For a while he laid their numbly, his breathes slow and even as his dark eyes watched the shadows being cast by the ceiling fan moving upon the wall. 

It wasn't long before the breeze caused by the fan sent shivers through his body as the air touched his bare chest, which was glistening with sweat, and his dark mattered hair, which clung to his forehead. Slowly he turned his head to the side so that he was looking at the living room's entertainment center. Their resting in a pile of dust on one of the shelves was a VCR with green digits that read 3:21a.m. 

"Shit!" the young man cursed as he pushed himself up again and rubbed his temples, trying to fight the headache that currently pounded against his forehead and eyes. 'Just once I'd like to get a good six hours of sleep. Why won't these fucking dreams leave me the hell alone?' 

After a moment he gave up on his head, deciding he'd endure the pain as he always did. 'Feeling pain is better than feeling nothing.' He remained himself almost sarcastically. 

Dim light glistening off of glass caught the corner of his eye, and he turned so that he could look at the empty bottle lying on the coffee table next to the couch. A cynical smile appeared on his lips as he looked upon the empty bottle of vodka. 

'How much did I drink last night?' he questioned then snickered as he realized that not being able to remember wasn't a good sign. 'Kari must have come in late and covered me up.' He reasoned as he finally noticed the blanket tangled around his legs. Suddenly guilt kicked in and a frown fell unto the young man's features as a shadow past over his dark eyes. 

He hated that his younger sister had to see him like that, past out from drinking. There was a time when this dismal apartment was bright and comforting, but the once happy home had become a merry-go-round. Their lives were constantly spinning, leaving them disoriented so that they couldn't tell up from down or heaven from hell.

Taichi Kamiya, the once proud leader of the Digidestined, balled his hands into tight fist as he thought about how much he hated the world and how much he despised his own life.

"I fell sick…" he grumbled before struggling to his feet, then swaggering out of his small living room and into the dark hall. He stumbled in the darkness, all the while his nausea twisting his insides. Each step sent blows to his head, causing his dizziness to increase until the darkness no longer mattered and all he could see was waves and splotches of color. For a moment his will faltered and he was almost ready to fall down and give up, but his determination rose through his blurred vision as he caught a glimpse of his little sister's room.

'Hikari has already had to see me past out on the couch…' he thought to himself as he force his legs to move again, 'Somehow I doubt it'd be good for her to come out of her room and find me past out on the floor cover in my own vomit.' The desire to spare his sister more grief pushed the young man on, and he soon found his way to the apartment's main bathroom.

Quickly he pushed open the bathroom door and fell onto the floor, slamming the door shut behind him. He didn't bother with the turning on the light; the only thing that mattered was making it to the toilet. Grinding his teeth and tightly shutting his eyes he slowly crawled across the tile floor until he found the toilet. He felt all thoughts leave him as his muscles tensed and he began to spew the fluids in his stomach into the ceramic bowl. 

Soon both his stomach and spirit were empty and he fell back unto the floor where he let darkness take him away from his misery.

"Taichi?" a soft voice murmured from behind the bathroom door then waited patiently for an answer, when no response came she called again, only this time her voice rose to accommodate for the barrier blocking the sound. 

"Taichi!"

The sound pierced through the wooden door, causing the brunette who had past out on the bathroom floor to jolt awaked startled by the sound. The moment Taichi opened his eyes a splitting pain pulsed through his head while a gnawing pain worked through his stomach.

"Taichi!"

The cry came again from behind the door even louder than before, forcing a groan out of the now fully awake brunette.

"What?!" the teen answered, not caring that irritation radiated heavily off of the one word.

A soft melancholy sigh was heard on the other side, causing the Taichi to instantly regret his outburst.

"Are you drunk again?" the gentle voice of light questioned calmly, allowing her concern to be known through the weaver in her voice.

For a moment Taichi simply stared up at the ceiling, his guilt returned in full force as he thought of his younger sister and the disappointment he was to her.

"No… no" he replied with a slight chuckle, "last night I was drunk; today I just have a little hang over."

The teen could almost feel his sister's eyes roll from behind the door. 

"Well get your lazy ass up and take a shower! Takure's going to be over soon." She announced before leaving the hall and going to the kitchen. 

Taichi waited until the sound of his sister's footsteps faded, then he rolled over and struggled to his feet. Without the aid of light he turned to the shower, adjusting the water to the right temperature and undid the drawstring on his orange pants. His pants slid down to his ankles and he stepped out of them and into the shower. 

Steam instantly greeted him and he smiled in contentment as the hot water fell on to his skin. The water caressed his muscles, gently move down his body before falling into the marble tub and passing into the drain. 

'I feel like shit. Of course that has become a common feeling around here. Hikari must be so pissed at me. I can't believe I broke my promise to her. We promised each other that we'd endure our feelings of worthlessness rather than attempting to drown them in alcohol and numb them away with injections and pills. I still don't know how Hikari got a hold of those anti-depressants, much less that morphine. How fucked up do you have to be to get a kick off of morphine?'

For a while the brunette turned his attention to the sound of water falling on flesh and marble. The noise along with the warmth of the steam gave him some comfort, allowing him to no longer dwelling on what his life and the lives of those he cared about had become. He knew that he had become everything he'd swore he'd never be. He lived a life without hope or reason. The purpose of all the Digidestined had long since been fulfilled, and there was nothing left for him.

There was a time when he was a hero, when he knew his worth without question, but now he was just another fucked up norm, blaming all his mistakes and bad choices on his parents and an over demanding society. 

He groaned and gave up. It didn't matter how hard he tried, his thoughts always returned to how much had been taken away from him. His heroic deeds were stripped from him the moment he returned to this ungrateful world. His parents had practically abandoned both him and his sister so that they could travel the world, living off of some inheritance. His soccer carrier was cut down and slaughtered because of an injury to his knee, an injury that only now was loosing its mark on him. And lastly his very heart and soul had been burnt to ashes, leaving nothing but dust and dreams that will never be. He had lost his best friend in an explosion several years ago. A fire claimed many lives including that of his Yamato Ishida. The fire had taken this blonde youth and Taichi's will to live with it. Yamato had been his best friend, his absolution. The two balanced each other out and without him Taichi simply could not feel complete.

'I was a coward, no wonder the Digital World will never open for us again. We're all worthless.'

The water continued to caress olive skin and the brunette stayed under the shower until the hot water had all run out, leaving him at the mercy of freezing water in early January.

"In a land of dirt and plaster lies an army of a thousand nowhere kids… loosing ground and falling faster into a life that no one should have to live."

Taichi, now clean and wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and a white T-shirt, entered the kitchen to find his sister Hikari singing loudly to Smile Empty Soul while doctoring up a cup of strong coffee.

"We are the people that you hate! We are the fucking bastards that your created… a generation with no place… a generation of all your sons and daughters…"

At the end of the chorus Hikari didn't hesitate to raise her middle finger and point it at the picture of her parents smiling happily while holding each other.

Taichi laughed at his sister's rebellious behavior, he somewhat pleased to know that he wasn't the only disappointment to his parents.

"What's for breakfast?" he asked with a grin as he turned his sister's blaring radio down a little for sake of his still pounding head.

"Coffee and Tylenol." The sixteen-year-old replied with a mocking smile as she placed a cup of black coffee and two gel capsules on the small kitchen table for her brother.

"Very funny." Taichi replied bitterly as he pulled up a chair and took a seat in front of his "breakfast". Without hesitation he took a sip of his coffee, testing the tempter before deciding that it was safe to drink. It wasn't long before the red and yellow pills were down and his coffee cup was half-empty. "Didn't you say that Takure's coming over?"

Hikari looked back at her brother, a small smile played on her lips, and she could not help the glow that entered her eyes. "Um, yeah, he's going to help me investigate a story for the school news paper." She explained casually.

Hikari's interest in photography had long since expanded into journalism. She was now the best journalist on the school new paper and the most likely candidate for editor next year.

"What kind of story is it?" Taichi asked indifferently as he flipped through a sports magazine that had been resting on the table.

"Oh… it's a… cause of a fire." Hikari explained quickly, but her brother caught each word and quickly abandoned his reading to look up at her. 

"Cause of a fire?" he questioned further, a stern and slightly frightened tone entering his voice.

Hikari nodded quickly as she picked her brother's empty mug up and took it over to the counter where she began refilling and doctoring the drink up. "Yeah a warehouse exploded in Aqua City, the police aren't releasing many details, so I thought I'd go check it out."

Taichi stared at his sister for a moment then replied, "Absolutely not."

"What?" Hikari asked in shock and anger.

"There is no way in hell that you're going to investigate a fucking explosion." Taichi stated, trying to sound mature and commanding.

"You can't tell me what to do! I have to go or else I loose my spot on the school news paper." Hikari argued while crossing her arms stubbornly over her chest.

Taichi stood up, his chair squeaking over the kitchen floor, while he tried to stand tall. "When mom and dad are gone I'm in charge, and there's no way you're going."

Hikari was about to argue, but her objections were cut off by the soft sound of knocking at the apartment's front door. The ruby-eyed girl gave her brother a quick glare before running off to answer the door. 

Taichi walked to the living room and watched his sister unlock the door and pull it open to reveal a tall young man on the other side. The teen smiled at Hikari before she moved aside to let him in. His hair was light blonde and fell in straight choppy locks. His eyes were a soft blue and his skin was light and flawless. He wore and out fit of all black, baggy black pants with chains hanging on the side and a black hoody.

"Good morning Takure!" Hikari chirped, earning her a grin from the tall blonde.

"Good morning," he replied his voice soft, sounding almost like a mournful melody, "Hey Taichi, you look like shit." He commented with a smile.

Taichi responded with a grin and the figure. "So I hear you kids are going to the mall today." The brunette stated, ignoring the glare he was receiving from his little sister.

Takure looked at the older boy in confusion then turned to the girl who was now standing next to him. "I thought we were going to investigate that fire over in the ware house district." 

Hikari huffed then replied; "My dear brother seems to think that it would be inappropriate for us to fulfill our obligations to our school news paper."

"Fine!" Taichi cried hopelessly, not liking that the conversation was turning against him. "You can fucking go," he consented, but quickly added, "but I'm going with you." 

Takure shrugged his shoulders and Hikari grinned at her brother's over dramatics. 

"Great you can help carry my equipment!" she expressed before skipping off to her room to gather her stuff.

The two boys watched the bright-eyed girl disappear into the hall before Taichi turned to go to the kitchen mumbling under his breath. "I always have to carry the fucking equipment…"

Takure followed the brunette into the kitchen where they would discuss all the trivial events in their young lives.

~*~*~

Beep… Beep… Beep…

A thin green line streaked across a small black monitor. Each time the line would rise to an exact point on the monitor, causing a beeping sound to echo through the room when the streak would reach the rise on the graph's axis. The streak would then disappear, leaving the graph blank and the monitor dark before reappearing, causing the process to begin again. The streak was consistent, never rising or falling from its original point, and for a while the flashing light and the mechanical beeping were the only distinguishable sources of activity in the dark room.

Beep… Beep… Beep…

Time past slowly in the blackened room, however, soon the beeping was joined by another sound, this one far less mechanical. The sound of breathing became audible within the room. At first the breathing was soft and barely noticeable, but it soon change. The breathing became quick and raspy. The beeping on the monitor quickened, and the streak dashed across the graph with its rise reaching a new height. Then breathing transformed into painful moans and incoherent pleas. 

"No… don't… please no…"

The please came out like whimpers and the beeping grew louder. 

"No!"

The cry echoed through the room loudly as a body shot up from where it lay on a mattress on the floor. The beeping on the monitor now turned to one long sound, which rang through the room like a banshee. 

The body that cried out was that of a young man. He was clothed in a pair of dark blue jeans but his upper body remained bare and was cover with small white circles, which had green wires running from the circles to an adapter, which was plugged into the monitor. His fair skin was now dripping with sweat, and his blonde hair, with black streaks, stuck to his forehead and neck. He gasped for air like one who had just been cut free from a noose. His body shook with violent tremors as he slowly rose his sweaty hands to his head. His long fingers combed through his hair before tightening their hold. His body continued to shake while he held his head and began to rock back and forth. His eyes were shut tightly and his face twisted in pain as he tightened the hold on his hair.

Whatever had jolted him from his sleep had left him terrified and disoriented. It was over a minute before his breathing grew under control and his body began to relax. Soon his tense muscles loosened, and the rocking ceased. Slowly recognition returned to him. The sound of the monitor still beeping loudly reached his ears, the feeling of the cold upon his sweaty flesh sent shivers through his once trembling body, and the emptiness of his surroundings came crashing upon him, causing him to question whether waking was a good thing to do at all. 

A soft sigh of relief escaped the blonde's chapped lips, and he slowly released his hold upon his hair, allowing his hands to sink slowly to the ground. Once his hands had touched the mattress his face began to relax until at last he opened his eyes. The blue orbs seemed to glow in the darkness. For a moment he simply sat there, his eyes were dull and tired from a fever. His breathing was slow and he used this time to fully recover from the shock of his awakening. 

"'It is a joy to the just to do judgment: but destruction shall be to the worker of iniquity. The man that wandereth out of the way of understanding shall remain in the congregation of the dead.'"

He whispered softly, his voice being lost among the beeping of the monitor. Finally his senses fully returned and he slowly turned his attention to the monitor standing next to the mattress. The entire system had been compromised the moment he jolted awake. 

"Stupid piece of shit." The young man cursed dully as he reached for the switch on the monitor and shut it off, silencing the beeping. 'This portable crap is really outdated, I need to get some better equipment while I'm here.' He reminded himself as he began to remove the circular patches on his chest and arms.

Once he was free of the patches he slowly stood up and stretched. 

'I wonder how long I was out for?'

Leisurely he walked to the center of the room and reached into the air, blindly searching for the light. Finally his fingers came in contract with a balled chain and he pulled it down, switching the bare light bulb on. Instantly dull light flooded the room and the young man was forced to shut his eyes against the invasion.

Once his eyes had adjusted he looked around the room, wishing to familiarize himself with his temporary home. The room was a group of storage shafts deep underground. They were once used to store equipment for the subway maintenance workers. But this particular track had long since been shut down due to instability, which caused part of the tunnel to collapse. Tokyo's Department of Transportation had decided that it would be more economical to simply build a new tunnel then to repair the old one. After all, repairing the old one would have forced the Hypnos plant near by to shut down for a couple of months, while building the new one only forced a few minorities out of their homes permanently. 

The room he was currently in was small, dirty, and relatively empty. It had a dusty torn up mattress, that he had found in a dumpsite a couple of days ago, shoved into one corner. There was of course the portable life support monitor standing next to the mattress. An old metal shelf had been transformed into a desk and currently had a laptop, a cell phone, a small transmission dish, and two small hand guns laying on top of it, with a metal folding chair pushed up to it. Lying on the floor, next to the doorway between room one and room two, was a small boom box plugged into an outlet near the metal shelf. 

Water and electricity still came to the small rooms because it had to pass through them to get to the Hypnos factory near by. For this fact the blonde felt the necessity to take advantage of the resources. Slowly he walked to the boom box, leaned down, and turned it on while setting the CD on shuffle. Once the music began he exited the first room and went into the second.

"Damn that toxin really fucked me up." He mumbled to himself as he entered the second room.

The second room was equal in size to the first room. It had two large cracked and rust stained sinks on one wall. Over to the other side of the wall the concrete floor curved down, making a short of pit in the floor. In the center of the pit was a drain, and directly above it was a rusted, metal pipe with an opening for water. 

The young man winced slightly as he locked at his body. The second room was lit by florescent lights, which allowed him to see how badly bruised his fair skin truly was. Multiple whelps swelled on his chest. The back of his head was tender from a bad bruise, and his neck currently had a long lesion running across it. Already the lesion was red, with the flesh around it slightly pink.

'Great, just what I need, an infection.' He thought sarcastically to himself as he turned to the metal knobs on the wall nearest to the drain. 

His hands were still shaky and weak, but he managed twist the knob fully on so that rumbling sounds came from the exposed pipes in the room. Soon water came pouring forth from the pipes. At first the water was dense and rest colored, the very sight and smell of it making the young man want to vomit, but soon the rust ran out and the water was clear and relatively clean.

As the water continued to run, the blonde walked over to the two sinks and looked down into them. The first sink seemed to contain what he was looking for, and he picked it up and set it on the corner of the sink. Next he undid his jeans and slipped them off. With nothing underneath his jeans he stood in the chilled room naked with his attention placed upon the object on the sink. 

A tremor seemed to run up his spin, and he placed his hands upon the rim of the sink for support as his eyes grew distant. A sense of self loathing came over him, while his mind drifted to the night before. He hadn't had time to think of it earlier. Once his contact had rescued him he ran. Ran until he reached this temporary refuge. Then the toxin took its affects again and he could barely stand. Knowing his danger he set up the life support monitor to send jolts of electricity automatically through his body, should his heart rate drop dramatically. Luckily his heart rate had remained stable, and he had awoken with the effects of the toxin fully gone. 

But now another pain was there. The pain of regret. How many had died at his hands last night? How many people had been in the club when he set off those carefully placed, explosive devices? How much blood was upon his hands?

His body began to tremble again as he looked at his hands, hands that were stained with life after life. He was a monster. He knew that. They had made him, and he couldn't undo what they had done. He couldn't change his desire to destroy; it was like breathing to him. He needed to kill to stay alive. 

Suddenly anger rose within him and he screamed, his tortured voice rang through the empty tunnel as tears of pain and rage slipped from his eyes. Finally he could take no more, and he grabbed the object on the sink and marched over to the drain.

Without so much as flinching he stepped under the freezing water. His breathing began to increase as his excitement rose. The water hammered upon him, and his muscles began to tighten from the shocking cold. The cold water felt like tiny needles driving into his flesh, but the pain was soothing, and it was not long before his body began to go numb. 

Delirium seemed to have entered the young man's mind as he looked at his hands, one empty and the other holding his precious object. In his mind all he could see was red. The clear water had turned crimson. Red dripped from his hands, splashing like the tears of life unto the concrete floor below. 

He began to shake. He knew it was all in his head. He knew that the life he was living had slowly driven him mad. He rarely had contact with other people and normally when he did it resulted in death. He was always running from his enemies. He was always being hunted. It had all finally taken its toll and driven him mad. He knew it would take a miracle to save him from his insanity, but miracles were beyond his reach.

And the red continued to drip from his stained hands onto the concrete floor until he could no longer stand it. If he was going to see blood drip from his hands then it was going to be real. He tightened his hold on the razor in his right hand and slowly brought it up to his left hand. Taking a deep breath, he placed the razor blade horizontally on his left wrist. He then gritted his teeth and held his breath as he applied pressure and slowly ran the blade into and across his skin. A small red slit was made on his left wrist and suddenly all the other blood on his left hand vanished, leaving only the slit and the crimson seeping from it.

A small chuckle radiated from the blonde as he smiled with relief. Now the only blood on his hands was his own. Determination rose within him and he looked to his right wrist, which was still stained completely red. He gave his hand a rebellious look before switching the blade to his left hand. Pain shot through his left arm as he gripped the razor in his hand, pulling the already cut skin on his wrist further apart.

He gritted his teeth again as he rose the blade to his right wrist. This time he slit his wrist quickly, wanting the same relief for his right hand as he had for his left. Instantly the red vanished and small drops began to surface from the new lesion. Now that his deeds were done he dropped the razor with satisfaction. His hands were clean again, and the stinging pain was exhilarating. He began to breathe deeply as he let his arms drop, allowing the blood to flow freely from the slits. They were not deep cuts and so would not prove life threatening. He always knew exactly how far to go. 

The water continued to pound him from above, and his body began to tremor so violently that he was forced to go to his knees. He sat on his knees with the water flowing around him and his blood flowing out of him. Soon a small smile spread across his face as the sound of his boom box reached his ears for the first time since he had turned it on. The song was one of his favorites, and he silently listened to the words.

__

I watched you change into a fly

I looked away you were on fire

And I watched a change in you

It's like you never had wings

Now you feel so alive

I watched you change

I took you home

Set you on the glass

I pulled off your wings

And I laughed

And I watched a change in you

It's like you never had wings

Now you feel so alive

I watched you change

The young man shut his eyes as he realized how much he had truly changed over the years. No longer was he a great defender of life. No longer was he the Digidestined of Friendship, now he was nothing more then a ghost. A shadow that past silently from one graveyard to another. 

He began to think of everything that had been taken away from him. His brother whom he loved more then breathing, his friends whom he'd die for, his digimon partner whom he'd fight along side without fear, and he best friend whom he'd let in on his secrets no matter how personal they were. He'd never know that life again. He'd never know completion again. He was alone and empty.

'Surely they've moved on by now. Tai probably set his own feelings aside and comforted Sora, and now the two of them are probably engaged, if not married. Kari probably took care of TK, and they're happily living their high school years up. And I'm sure the others are okay. I shouldn't worry so much about them, it's not like I made that much of a difference in their lives. Why would they be effected by my "death"?'

The blonde buried his face in his hands. He hadn't made any difference in their lives, but they were his reason for living. For this, he'd continue fighting. No matter what the cost, he had to win this fight for those he left behind.

"TK, Tai, everyone… I'm sorry. The dead have no place among the living, and for that I can never know you again."

And the blonde's voice died away, leaving the sound of falling water and the words, _I watched you change_, to echo through the lonely tunnel.

~*~*~

The line: "It is a joy to the just to do judgment: but destruction shall be to the worker of iniquity. The man that wandereth out of the way of understanding shall remain in the congregation of the dead." Is actually Proverbs 21: 15-16. Proverbs is one of my favorite books in the Bible and I really felt this chapter described some of what is going on through Yamato's head. 

Something you might have noticed is that the other Digidestined refer to each other by their full names, while Yamato still refers to them by their nicknames. This has some significance and will be explained in further chapters. 

The man with raven hair and Fenris are currently the main bad guys and you will see more of them. Yamato is justifiably insane and there will be more on his strange behavior later. I'll go into more depth with what caused the character's personalities to do such 180's in the next couple of chapters. Those of you who were waiting for the big reunion, well, I'm not really sure when that's coming up, but it will be here pretty soon. Oh and don't worry, I will explained what Yamato was carrying in the club that was so important in the next chapter, and as far as the contact goes… let's just say it's going to be very surprising.

Well I think that's everything. Now please review. I'm still a little shaky with this fic, I'm definitely more comfortable with my fantasy stuff then with this kind of realistic stuff, so I'd really like to hear some opinions on it. Critiquing, criticism, and praise are all fully welcomed and appreciated. Now to go do my home work that I have been neglecting all week hehehe…


End file.
